A Hogwarts School Musical
by amyinsaney
Summary: Ever wondered what would happen if Harry Potter and High School Musical shacked up and had a baby? Well, this is that baby. Complete with musical numbers.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Harry eagerly watched the tiny hands on the watch Dudley wore around his plump wrist which hung over the side of the sofa. It was two minutes until he turned eleven, and with every tick the clock face seemed to grow larger and larger, the sound echoing through his head. He counted down the seconds... _16, 15, 14... _He didn't know why he was so excited. It wasn't like the Dursley's would even know, let alone acknowledge, that it was Harry's birthday... _9,8,7..._He supposed it was more the _idea_ of being eleven, which seemed to him to be a great deal older than ten... 3,2,1... as the hands of the clock both pointed at the number 12, the first thing Harry realised was that he didn't feel any different to how he had one minute ago. He stood up from where he had been curled on the hard wooden floorboards of the hut on the rock and stretched his limbs out, trying to feel some kind of discernable difference. After a few minutes of this, Harry realised it was fruitless, and instead started striding around the room, taking care to muffle his footsteps so as not to disturb his snoring lump of a cousin. He tried puffing his chest out, clenching his fists, even flattening his hair, but none of it was any use. It was official, Harry concluded. Being eleven was no different to being ten. Deflated, he wandered over to the tiny window that rattled against the wind and looked out. All he could see was ocean, and, if he looked up, the velvety blackness of the night sky, studded with stars that seemed to wink down at him from their elaborate constellations. Harry liked to think that they were looking out for him: that they, at least, cared that today was his birthday, and wanted him to be safe and happy. And all at once Harry was filled with a bizarre hope - something he rarely felt when in the presence of the Dursley's. He felt as if he was on the brink of something incredible, like this could be the start of something new. He even felt a smile begin to form on his face, when suddenly the door behind him trembled as if something round and hard had been thrown at it. Harry spun around, his heart hammering in his chest. Dudley's snores faltered for a moment, and he shifted in his sleep. Tentatively, Harry crept towards the door, hoping to check the lock, but before he could reach it, it gave another horrifically loud bang, and this time it sounded as though some wood had splintered. Dudley woke with a snort, his eyes blearily frowning at Harry's frozen form halfway towards the door, but Harry didn't have time to explain. For a second later, the door fell open, the hinges ripped off of the wall of the hut, and a vast figure stood in the doorway. Behind Harry, Mr Dursley came thundering down the stairs, screaming obscenities at the top of his lungs and brandishing a long barrelled, ancient gun and a torch.

"Who's there?" He shouted in his 'threatening' voice, although it trembled slightly. "I warn you, I'm armed!" The artificial beam of light settled on the figure, revealing a vast, hairy mass of a man: his face almost entirely obscured by his thick, dark mane of hair and similar beard, and two dark eyes peered out, glinting like beetles. Upon closer inspection, Harry realised that the man, or giant, or whatever he was, was dressed in the most peculiar outfit – it looked as though he was clad in basketball gear, and around his neck hung a silver whistle on a single corded chain. On his feet were a pair of white trainers which were each about the size of the boat the Dursley's and Harry had travelled to the Hut in, and he was passing a basketball between his dustbin lid hands. The giant squeezed himself through the door: Harry thought that he seemed entirely too large to exist, and that, coupled with the bizarre attire the man was wearing, led Harry to the conclusion that he was either dreaming or had gone barking mad.

"Stay back!" Mr Dursley yelped as the giant threw his ball with an incredibly accurate aim onto the sofa, picked up the door and slammed it back into place. Dudley, who had previously been frozen on his seat, took advantage of the giant's turned back and scurried up the stairs to join his mother, where she cowered behind her husband.

The giant turned around to look at the Dursley's as they crouched, terrified, at the top of the stairs.

"Don't happen to have anythin' I can make a protein shake with, do yeh?" He said, as he dusted off his hands. He strode over to the sofa and sat down heavily, the floor creaking beneath his as he did so. "It's not been an easy day, ter be honest with yeh." The giant picked up his whistle from where it hung around his neck and blew it heavily in the direction of the empty grate in the fire place. Instantly, flames began dancing merrily as though an invisible hand had simply placed them there. Harry reminded himself that this was, after all, just a dream, and strange things like this often happen in dreams.

"Those kids," the giant said to no one in particular, taking a protein powder sachet and a large sports bottle filled with water out of his red and white letterman jacket. "They're just not playin' as good as they used ter anymore, and then they get all angry with me when I tell 'em. One of 'em even threatened me today, would yer believe it. Said he wanted to do things other than basketball. Stupid lad, what is there other than basketball? Oh, don't worry about the protein shake, by the way." He added to the Dursley's, who resembled wax models right about now. "I brought me own protein powder. Yer never know when yer might need a protein boost, that's what I always say." The giant ripped open the sachet with his teeth and poured the contents into the sports bottle, before shaking the mixture up and taking a long sip.

"Sir, I DEMAND that you leave this residence at once!" Uncle Vernon seemed to have finally found his voice. "This is breaking and entering; I can have you arrested for this!"

The giant finished drinking and screwed the lid back on his bottle. "Ah, shut up, Dursley, yer givin' me a headache." He picked up his basketball from where it sat next to him and lobbed it over his shoulder. It lodged itself in Mr Dursley's mouth, which had been hanging open in protest, knocking out his front teeth. Harry couldn't suppress the laughter that bubbled in his throat, and the giant looked around at him, his expression half surprised, half warm, and got to his feet.

"An' here's Harry!" he said. "I didn't see yeh standin' over there!" Harry walked hesitantly towards him, almost confident that the giant wasn't going to hurt him, even though this was, of course, a dream.

"Last time I saw yeh, you was just a baby. You don't half look like yer old dad, you'll be a top basketball player just like he was." The giant's eyes glinted warmly. "We'll win every game we play with you on the team, jus' you wait. Hell, we migh' even win the championship!"

He clapped Harry around the shoulders in a gesture that was clearly meant to be friendly but, in actuality, caused Harry's knees to buckle. Hastily, the giant helped Harry to his feet. "Careful now, we don' want ter be breakin' yeh before yeh've even got there, do we? Now," he continued, settling back down on the sofa and gesturing for Harry to sit down too. "I've go' a little summin for yeh. It's not every day a yeh turn eleven, is it?" He produced a squashy package wrapped in shiny red wrapping paper and tied with a white ribbon from inside his jacket and handed it to Harry. Inside was a red basketball jersey with white edging and the word "HOOPWARTS" emblazoned across the chest beneath the image of a strange, unfamiliar crest. Harry's hand brushed over the soft material, his brow furrowed. He'd never been given a gift before, especially not by a complete stranger who just so happened to be three times the size of a normal human being.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly, still frowning at the jersey. "But... I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?"

To his surprise, the giant chuckled. "I didn't really introduce meself, did I? Me name's Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwarts Groundskeeper and captain of Hoopwarts Basketball Team. Yer can call me Hagrid fer now, though, just cos I like yeh." Hagrid winked at Harry, and then his face turned sincere. "Don' yeh get too used to it, though, cos when yeh're on the team yeh'll have to call me Coach. No exceptions."

Harry's frown deepened. "Team? What team?"

"Hoopwarts, o' course! Only one of the greatest junior wizarding basketball teams in the whole o' Britain!" Hagrid's face fell a little. "O' course, if Dumbledore spent a little less o' the school budget on Quidditch, maybe we'd be _the _greatest, but, yeh know how it is..."

Harry's mind was reeling: Hogwarts? Quidditch? _Wizards? _Maybe he really was going mental. "No, I... I don't. Sorry, but what exactly are you talking about?"

"Hogwarts, Harry! Thought yeh'd know all abou' the place!"

"Um... no. I don't, sorry. What's Hogwarts?"

Hagrid looked shocked. "Yeh don' mean ter say that yeh don' know... surely not... didn't yeh ever wonder where yeh parents learnt it all?"

"All what?" Harry asked. Hagrid's face turned purple and he looked over his shoulder to where the Dursely's were watching them, their eyes wide with fear. He stood up, and for the first time, Harry felt afraid of Hagrid: His fists were clenched at his sides and his teeth were gritted.

"Yeh never told him, did yeh? Yeh never told this boy – this boy! – a single thing about all this? And now – now he knows nothin' abou' – about ANYTHING?"

Harry thought this was a little unfair: he did know some things. In fact, he considered himself to be quite clever. "I can do some things," He said quietly to Hagrid, who looked close to tears of rage.

"Bu' – but yeh don't know about our world, Harry, or who yeh parents were. Yeh don' know who yeh are, _what _yeh are._"_

Uncle Vernon swallowed and cleared his throat before lisping meekly, "We agreed when we took him in that we wouldn't put up with this – this nonsense about his parents –"

"Don' you say another word, Dursley." Hagrid threatened darkly. He picked up his basketball and passed it tauntingly between his hands again. "An' don' you dare insult Lily and James Potter in front of me. Listen," his tone instantly softened as he addressed Harry. "Yeh a wizard, Harry."

"I'm a – a _what_?"

"A wizard, o' course, get'cha head in the game, Harry. Yeh ever seen things tha' were a little strange? Made things move withou' touchin' 'em? Ever done things yer can't explain?"

Like a film inside his head, waiting to be played, Harry thought of how his hair grew back overnight whenever it was cut, how he had found himself on top of the school building when being chased by Dudley and his cronies, how the glass had somehow disappeared from the snake enclosure at the zoo. Slowly, Harry nodded his head.

"Righ', o' course yeh have. An' yeh know why? It's 'cos yeh a wizard!"

Suddenly, Hagrid blew his whistle and the fire in the grate blew out just as a young, blonde teenage boy dressed impeccably in lemon yellow trousers, a bedazzled shirt and a lime green bowler hat slid down the chimney to land in the fireplace. Simultaneously, three other attractive teenagers – two girls and one boy – burst in through windows and doors around the hut. Uncle Vernon let out a cry of protest, but was obviously too terrified to intervene. All four teenagers had a dazzling smile plastered on their face, and the other boy was wearing a basketball jersey not dissimilar to the one Hagrid got for Harry for his birthday. The only real difference was that across the back was the name "TROY". A glitter ball descended from the ceiling and the room started flashing various bright colours. Harry was utterly perplexed, and suddenly music filled the room: a jaunty, up-tempo piano tune that had him desperate to tap his feet in time to it. A spotlight descended on Hagrid, who stood in the centre of the four teenagers, who began dancing around him.

"_I know it's hard ter believe,  
But cant yeh see,  
Tha' the magic's righ' inside yeh?" _He sang, his raspy voice surprisingly tuneful. The boy in the lemon yellow trousers put his arm around Hagrid's middle and sung the next verse.

"_You've always felt so alone,  
And totally pwned,  
But there's magic right inside you!" _

"_Harry, you're like no other!  
And we think you should know!" _They all sang together now, in a five part harmony, and simultaneously performed an extremely complicated dance. Harry felt his face break into a grin as he marvelled at their talent.

"'_Cos you're so much more than what,  
Those muggles always say,  
They are so lame!  
And magic is who you are,  
It's running through your veins,  
It's in your veins!  
So lonely before,  
Now you've finally found...  
What you've been hoping for!"_

"What's that? Harry asked the dark haired girl who was dancing closest to him in the musical interlude that followed. She smiled knowingly and said: "A home, of course! And that's Hogwarts!"_  
_

"_You'll get to learn loads of stuff,  
Like how to make potions,  
Though the teacher has emotioooons!"_

"_And don't go swimming because,  
There's a squid in the lake,  
Also, you can speak to snaaakes!"_

"_Yes, Hogwarts is like no other:  
It's a Wizarding School!"_

"_Cos House Elves will make you food,  
And season it perfectly,  
So perfectly!  
And you'll get to use a wand,  
Though that sounds kind of dirty,  
Kind of dirty!  
So lonely before,  
Now you've finally found...  
What you've been hoping for!"_

"_Doo DooDooDoo  
Doo DooDooDoo  
Doo DooDooDoo  
Waoh-ah-ah-oh."_

Harry broke into a raucous round of applause – though the musical number had been unexpected, it was by no means unappreciated. Harry also suddenly realised that this entire ordeal had not been a dream as he had initially thought: he could never, not in a million years, imagined anything quite as wonderful as what he had just witnessed. Also, the smell of the smoke from the lights, the sound of the music, the feel of Hagrid's heavy hand on his back as he guided him out of the hut and away from the Dursley's – it was all _real_. Harry really _was_ a wizard: he was leaving the Dursley's and he was going back to the place where he belonged. He would finally have a _home_, and the idea made Harry's heart soar. As he travelled to London with his new found friends, Harry chuckled to himself as he remembered his thoughts from earlier in the evening about how being eleven wasn't much different to being ten. How very wrong he had been, indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Harry wrung his hands as he looked up at the great oak doors in front of him. The first years were all unnaturally silent as they stood in the entrance hall of the magnificent castle, the air thick with nerves as they awaited McGonagall's return and their imminent sorting. Next to Harry, Ron was biting his nails down to little nubs while rocking backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet. The girl they had met on the train, Hermione, was just in front of them, instantly recognisable from her mane of bushy hair, and she was anxiously muttering encouragements to herself under her breath.

Across the entrance hall, Harry recognised the blonde teenage boy who had been in the bedazzled shirt at the hut on the rock with Hagrid. He looked strange in the black robes all the first years were wearing: it made his pallid skin look positively white, and he seemed deflated without rhinestones bedecking his every garment. He had, however, compromised by wearing a hot pink, sequined flat cap on his head. Beside him stood his sister, whose hair was the colour of lemon, and she was performing a series of strange vocal exercises in apparent preparation for the sorting, while shooting flirtatious smiles at the boy Harry remembered from the hut on the rock as well: he had been wearing a Hoopwarts basketball kit almost identical to the one that Harry had folded up carefully at the bottom of his trunk. His lustrous hair, swept carefully to the side, glinted ever so slightly in the dim candlelight and, even beneath his loosely fitting robes it was evident that his body was well toned and muscular. Harry noticed that the boy was attracting quite a lot of attention from the other girls around him, although they were far more subtle than the blonde had been. He, however, seemed oblivious to it all, spending the majority of his time exchanging comments with the coffee skinned boy standing beside him, who stood out remarkably from the crowd with his large afro, or else shooting furtive glances at a small brunette girl who looked in danger of passing out from nerves. Harry himself felt a little sick, and he anxiously tried to flatten out his hair.

"Nervous?" said a drawling voice behind him. Harry and Ron spun around, finding themselves facing a pale boy with a pointed face that had a sneer plastered all over it.  
"_I'm _not." He continued. "I've known what house I'll be sorted into since I was a child. All of our family have been in Slytherin." The boy's cold eyes travelled upwards on Harry's face, settling on his scar. "So it's true, then? What they said on the train? The famous Harry Potter's come to Hogwarts at last." Harry nodded slowly, disliking the arrogant tone in the boy's voice.  
"_My _name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He drawled, smoothing back his platinum blonde hair. Ron quickly attempted to hide his snigger as a cough, but Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Think my name's funny, do you? You're certainly one to talk, no need to ask _your _name. Red hair, hand me down clothes - my father's told me all about you Weasley's." Ron scowled and opened his mouth to retort, but Malfoy cut him off, turning back to Harry. "You don't want to get mixed up with the likes of him, Potter. You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others. I can help you there." He extended one pale hand, which Harry didn't take.

"I think I can figure it out for myself, thanks." Harry said, and Malfoy's face flushed an ugly pink. Ron let out a shout of laughter, along with several other students, and put his arm around Harry genially. Malfoy made a movement as if to strike out at Harry, but suddenly, behind them, the great oak doors swung open and Professor McGonagall came striding through. She cast a beady eye over the students and how they had gathered around Harry and Malfoy's burgeoning fight

"Right, then, that'll be enough of that. The sorting ceremony is about to begin." She called out sharply. "Now, please form a line everyone, and follow me."

Feeling as though he were about to throw up, Harry followed Ron through the doors and into the Great Hall.

Harry had never been in a more magnificent room in his life. The vast hall was lit by hundreds upon hundreds of candles that floated far above their heads beneath a velvety black ceiling studded with reams of stars –a sudden sense of déjà vu hit Harry as he remembered staring up at a night sky not so different from this one on the night he turned eleven. The other students sat at four long tables, littered with glittering golden plates and goblets, and at the end of the hall was a great plinth where the teacher's table sat, and, in front of it there was an elaborately carved, wooden podium with gold leaf detail.

"That is mahogany, I'm sure of it!" Hermione whispered behind him as they stared at the impossibly intricate detailing. The first year's all lined up in front of the teacher's table, facing the older students, and McGonagall placed a wooden, four legged stool at the top of the plinth, followed by a tattered old wizard's hat. Everyone in the hall seemed to direct their attention to this old hat, and Harry noticed that it twitched slightly, before a rip in its seam seemed to open wide like a mouth. The second that it did, a stream of music issued from within the very walls of the hall, and all the students and teachers cheered appreciatively. The first year's, meanwhile, were completely perplexed. From the ripped seam, the Hat began to sing.

"_What house is this?"  
"Gryffindor!" _Came the answering reply from the table on the far right._  
"We're undefeated!"  
"What house is this?" _The hat sung again, this time to the table next to the Gryffindors._  
"Slytherin!" _The table replied, _  
"That's right, we're better than you!"_

"_What house is this?"  
"Ravenclaw!  
Let's make some magic!"  
"What house is this?"  
"Hufflepuff!  
How about a welcome hug?"_

The students then stopped singing, letting the Hat take over for its solo.

"_Finally here at school,  
Feels like you're home at last!  
Magic's fun!  
The castle's great!  
And the food is perfectly spiced!"_

"_Ready for some magic,  
Ready to transfigure and charm!  
You're here to stay,  
Not movin' away,  
Not till your seven years are done!"_

The student's then joined in with the hat in a faultless harmony.

"_Ghosts are everywhere, they're kind of scary, kind of cool!  
The paintings speak, the stair's all move: what if we fall!"_

"_What school is this?  
Hogwarts!  
The best school ever!  
What school is this?  
Hogwarts!  
Put your wands up in the air!"_

"_What time is it?  
The time of our lives!  
Expelliarmus!  
What school is this?  
Hogwarts!  
Put your wands up in the air!"_

The hat once again took over, it's voice surprisingly loud and deep for a hat of its age.

"_Goodbye to rules,  
Hogwarts is cool,  
You don't even make your beds!  
Yeah, the house elves do that for you,  
And in the morning they make you eggs!"_

"_You've potions to make,  
And a giant snake,  
And owls in the Owlery!  
Defeat You-Know-Who,  
Play basketball too,  
Nowhere else you'd rather be!"_

The student's joined back in for the chorus, and this time they stood up from their tables, dancing and jumping.

"_Ghosts are everywhere, they're kind of scary, kind of cool!  
The paintings speak, the stairs' all move: what if we fall!"_

"_What school is this?  
Hogwarts!  
The best school ever!  
What school is this?  
Hogwarts!  
Put your wands up in the air!"_

_What time is it?  
The time of our lives  
Expelliarmus!  
What school is this?  
Hogwarts!  
Put your wands up in the air!"_

A wizened old wizard with twinkling blue eyes then swept across the plinth. He had long, snowy white hair and an even longer beard, and half moon spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. Harry recognised him from the chocolate frog card on the train: It was Dumbledore! He opened his arms wide and sung in a flawless baritone that wouldn't have been out of place at an opera.

"_Welcome everyone to Hogwarts school,  
Think of this place as your home,  
Except from the third floor, don't go there 'cos,  
You'll probably get..."_

All the students suddenly joined in to scream,_ "EATEN ALIVE!"_

"_House pride lets show it!  
We're magical and we know it!  
Hogwarts  
Is the best  
Yellow, blue and red (and green!)"_

"_When it's time to fight we do it  
Except Slytherins - they're all twits  
Put your wands up  
Let's party down  
Cos that's what the magic's all abooouuuut"_

"_What school is this?  
Hogwarts is the best school, you'll see!  
Put your wands up!  
We'll curse your arse off if you disagree!"_

"_Hogwarts!  
These will be the best years ever!  
It's our time  
The friends we make will stay forever!"_

"_What school is this?  
It's Hogwarts!  
We're magical!  
Come on and say again now!  
What school is this?  
It's Hogwarts!  
Let's go and have,  
The time of our liiiiiiives!"_

The entire hall burst into cheering, laughter and general excitement. The first years were still stood at the front, eagerly applauding the marvellous display. Dumbledore and the Hat each gave a gracious bow, before McGonagall clapped her hands together impatiently and the entire hall fell silent, the students all taking their seats. She cleared her throat and pulled a long piece of parchment out from beneath her cloak.

"Now," She began, addressing the first years. "When I call your name, you will come and sit on the stall and put the Hat on your head. Abbot, Hannah!"

A small girl with blonde pigtails stumbled forward. The Hat fell down over her eyes and her feet swung about a foot off the floor when she sat on the stall, but the brim of the Hat split open almost immediately and cried "HUFFLEPUFF!" The Hufflepuff table erupted in cheers as Hannah went to join them.

"Bolton, Troy!"

The attractive boy from the hut walked forward, anxiously smoothing his hair as he sat down on the stall. The Hat even looked remarkably good on him for the second that it was sat on his head, before it cried out "GRYFFINDOR!" This time, the Gryffindor table cheered loudly, students clapping Troy on his back as he took his seat. He was joined a little later by his friend with the afro, who, it turned out, was called "Danforth, Chad!"

"Evans, Ryan!"

Ryan hastily removed his hot pink, sequined cap as he sat down on the stall. The Hat, it seemed, had a little more difficulty establishing where it was that Ryan should be sorted, as it remained on his head for about five minutes before shouting, "HUFFLEPUFF!" and Ryan joined Hannah at Hufflepuff table.

It was his sister's turn next – "Evans, Sharpay!" – and she bopped up to the top of the plinth where the stool sat. The Hat hadn't touched her blonde curls for a mere second before it cried "SLYTHERIN!". This was the same for Malfoy, who swaggered over to the Slytherin table amid much applause, leering at Harry and Ron as he walked past.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione's hands were visibly shaking as she took her seat, and she took long, deep breaths as the hat sat on her bushy head, before it cried out "GRYFFINDOR!" She beamed, and hurried over to the Gryffindor table, where she sat next to Troy. Harry noticed Ron scowl just a little when he saw where she had chosen to sit.

"Hutcherson, Brooke!" was called next, a pretty girl with long blonde hair and a ginger chipmunk cupped in her hands. The hat considered her for a while before yelling "HUFFLEPUFF!", and Ryan stood up and applauded her as she made her way to the Hufflepuff table to join him. She was followed by "Mellark, Amy!" – a short girl with brown hair and rosy cheeks, who clutched a chubby hamster to her chest. The Hat almost instantly placed her in Ravenclaw, and she grinned and hurried over to her house table. The pretty brunette that Troy had been watching – her name was "Montez, Gabriella!" - was placed in Ravenclaw too, and while she seemed delighted, Troy was visibly disappointed.

As the surnames approached the letter "P", the knot that had formed in Harry's stomach clenched even tighter. What if he was in Slytherin? He couldn't even imagine spending seven years in the same house as Malfoy – it would be nothing short of torture. As his name was called, Harry shook from head to toe. He clenched his fists as he sat down on the little stool, trying to make it less obvious, but every eye in the hall was trained on him. Of course, Harry thought. They all want to see the sorting of the famous Harry Potter. Harry nearly jumped when the Hat was placed on his head, as it sounded as though there was a small voice talking directly into his ear.

"Harry Potter." It said. "I wondered when I'd be put on your head. Such fame, such power, such _potential_. "

"Please," Harry thought desperately. _"I'm just a small boy, nobody loves me"_

"_You're not just a small boy with no family,  
You're Harry Potter, in which house will you be?"_ The Hat replied.

"_Easy come, easy go, in which house will I go?" _Harry thought, beginning to get exhasperated.

"_SLYTHERIN!"_ The Hat cried inside Harry's head. Harry began to panic.

"_NOT SLYTHERIN! No, no no no no no no!"_

"_SLYTHERIN!" _The hat persisited.

"_NOT SLYTHERIN! No, no no no no no no!"_

"_SLYTHERIN!"_

"_NOT SLYTHERIN! No, no no no no no no!"_

"_SLYTHERIN!" _

"_No, no no no no no no!"_

"_SLYTHERIN!" _

"_In which house will I go?"_

"_SLYTHERIN!" _

"_No no no no no no no! NOT SLYTHERIN!  
No, no, no, no, no, no, no!  
Please Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor not Slytherin!  
'Cos Slytherin way too evil for me, for me,  
for meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"_

"Well, then." Said the Hat. "Better be... GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table exploded with cheers, every student on their feet. Harry noticed some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws on their feet too, applauding him as he made his way to join an excitable Hermione and Troy. Harry was so relieved, so _happy_ to not have been put in Slytherin that he even gave Hermione a hug, even though she was terribly annoying. Ron joined them shortly after; his brothers all ruffling his hair and clapping him on the back.

When the sorting ceremony was over, Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment and took the stool and hat away. Dumbledore stood at the podium, smiling down at the sea of children before him. They all fell silent, gazing at the old man expectantly.

"To our new students – Welcome to Hogwarts! To our old students – Welcome back! I trust you all had a wonderful summer holiday, and before we begin our banquet I would like to say a few words. Two words, actually: Dig. In." The students cheered appreciatively and Harry looked around, bemused. He'd never encountered a man quite like Dumbledore before. However, his confusion was short lived, as mountains of food had appeared right before his eyes: All the empty dishes that had littered the tables before were now filled with more food than he could even imagine. There was roast beef, roast lamb, roast pork and roast chicken, every kind of potato, Yorkshire puddings, carrots, peas, steak, bacon, eggs, sausages, chips, gravy, ketchup and, for some reason, the occasional lemon sherbet. Harry had never encountered so much food in his entire life.

"So you're Harry Potter, then." Troy said from across the table. Harry nodded his head, his cheeks too full of food to speak. "My name's Troy Bolton, it's nice to talk to you at last. I'm Hagrid's son." Harry very nearly choked on his steak and potatoes. Hagrid's son? Last time Harry checked, Hagrid was a hairy giant. There was no way, no way on this earth, that any son of Hagrid's could be as good looking as Troy was, and anyway, Troy was only a little taller than Harry. Maybe, Harry thought as he dazedly shook Troy's outstretched hand, maybe there was another Hagrid. He didn't think it was a particularly popular name, but, who knows, maybe they used different names in the Wizarding world to the Muggle world. He caught Ron's eye, however, and they both ducked under the table to "retrieve Harry's fork" in an attempt to hide their laughter from Troy.

A little later, the dishes were wiped clean of the remnants of their dinner, and the students had stuffed themselves with as much desert as they could manage, Dumbledore took to his podium once more. He opened his arms as if talking to the children gave him no greater pleasure.

"Now that you are all fed and watered, I'm assuming you are all in need of a good night's sleep, am I right?" The students laughed, and nodded in assent. "Yes, yes, I thought as much. Well, I shan't keep you for long, I promise, but before we begin this year at Hogwarts there are a few rules that you must adhere to. Firstly, let us _please_ not attempt to swim in the Black Lake. The Giant Squid hasn't been quite the same since the incident last year, and, after undergoing much counselling we have finally managed to get him moving and eating again, but he has asked us to expressly forbid any activities in the lake again." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and a small smile played about his lips. "Secondly, the Forbidden Forest is, as the name implies, forbidden. Please remember that, students, and also, please remember that there is a reason that it is forbidden. Let that be a good enough reason to stay away from it. And thirdly, and mercifully lastly, the third floor is out of bounds for all students this year." Dumbledore's tone suddenly turned serious. "Any student found on the third floor will be punished." Suddenly he smiled, breaking the tension. "And now: bedtime!"

There was a great amount of shuffling as the students lazily made their way out of the Great Hall and back to their common rooms. Percy's voice, however, rang out loud and sharp amongst the quiet chatter.

"First years, follow me, please! Make sure you stay in line! No wandering off – there'll be plenty of time for that later!" He continued this spiel as they made their way up the marble staircase, down corridors, through secret passages hidden by tapestries and, once, a sliding panel of wall. The first years, however, paid little attention to Percy's ramblings or their extraordinary surroundings as they were all stifling yawns in their hands and dragging their feet. They didn't even blink an eye at the ghosts that glided past – Nearly Headless Nick was most disappointed when he got next to no reaction to his almost-headless-ness - or at the various paintings that bid them good evening. Eventually they reached a portrait of a very fat woman in a red silk dress with white ribbons.

"Password?" She said.

"Caput Dragonis." Percy said in reply, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it, and found themselves in the Gryffindor Common room – a cosy, round room with a crackling fire, red and gold hangings and plenty of squashy armchairs. The boys were directed through a door to the boys' dormitory, and at the top of the spiral staircase behind that door was the first year dormitory. There were seven four-poster beds hung with deep-red velvet curtains with gold trimming, and their trunks had already been brought up and placed at the end of each one. The log burner in the centre of the room was crackling merrily, emitting a sleepy, golden glow and each of the duvets on the beds had been folded back, waiting to be slept in: to Harry, nothing had ever looked more inviting in his entire life. The boys pulled on their pyjamas with heavy lidded eyes and all but collapsed into bed. The last thing Harry heard before falling gratefully into a deep sleep was Ron's cries that Scabbers was chewing on the sheets.

Harry did wonder the next morning if perhaps he'd eaten too much at the feast that evening, for he dreamt the most peculiar dream: Hagrid was nursing a bundle of blankets, cooing and waving a rattle at it. He then passed the bundle of blankets to Harry, and when he peeked inside, Troy's face smiled back at him, his white teeth so bright that they temporarily blinded him, and he dropped the bundle to the floor. The heap of blankets grew and grew until a Hagrid-sized Troy emerged dressed in full Hoopwarts basketball kit. He threw an abnormally large basketball at Harry's head, yelling "Catch it, Harry! Catch it!" But instead the basketball hit Harry square in the face, knocking out all his teeth, and Hermione stood next to him, shaking her head disapprovingly and saying "You really ought to have caught it, Harry." Harry vowed to himself that at the next feast he would eat considerably less.

A/N: Anyone spot the The Hunger Games reference?

Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own any of these characters nor the worlds that they live in. Also, the first song is really "What Time Is It?" from High School Musical 2, and the second song is "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen and I have no idea why I put it in there, really, I am so sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Autumn descended upon the grounds of Hogwarts very suddenly that September, and as the first years trooped out of greenhouse after a particularly gruelling Herbology lesson involving wrestling unwilling plants into mittens and winter scarves, they found themselves clutching their cloaks around them, their breath visible in the air. Ron was nursing a particularly gruesome scratch on his wrist where a fanged geranium had reacted badly to his choice of earmuffs, and he was muttering angrily under his breath.

"Bloody plant, maybe I should've just left it to freeze to death." He mumbled, cradling the wound to his chest. Harry nodded in reply, feeling he should show Ron some moral support yet also feeling that Ron had brought it upon himself, given that he'd consciously chosen the most pink and frilly pair of earmuffs he could find for the hostile plant.

"Fanged geraniums are well known for adverse behaviour when teased for their femininity," said a voice from behind them. Ron let out a low snarl when he realised that it belonged to Hermione. "They like to be treated in as masculine a manner as possible, so it's no wondering that it lashed out at you," She continued, seemingly oblivious to the shade of purple that Ron's face was turning into.

"Well, I'm sorry," Ron said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I was under the impression that they were plants, and didn't expect the sodding thing to take a chunk out of my arm!"

Hermione looked affronted, and snapped back: "Perhaps if you had _tried_ to listen to Professor Sprout and hadn't spent the time being a complete idiot, you would have heard her warning all of us of exactly what I've just told you."

Ron opened his mouth to reply, his hands curling into fists, and Harry considered intervening, but they were suddenly interrupted by a shrill whistle that echoed across the grounds. The three of them, having fallen behind the rest of the group due to the blooming argument between Ron and Hermione, stopped in their tracks.

"What was that?" Harry said immediately, his eyes scanning the area for a source of the sound.

"Not sure. Let's have a look." Hermione replied, already setting off down the hill towards Hagrid's hut. Ron lagged back a bit, looking wistfully at the disappearing figures of the other first year students as they headed for the Great Hall and the lunch that awaited them there.

"Come on, Ron. We won't be five minutes, and then you can eat all the food you want, I promise," Harry called back to him, grinning, to which Ron sighed and reluctantly caught up with the other two.

"Well, alright then. But if there's only one bit of treacle tart left, I'm having it."

The three children headed in the direction the whistle had issued from, and as they rounded the corner by Hagrid's hut, they suddenly came across a huge outdoor basketball court, complete with bleachers, changing rooms and a snack bar. Hagrid stood to the side, dressed once again in his basketball gear, and his whistle was lodged between his teeth even as he barked at the group of players who were sweating on the court.

"What are yeh, a bunch o' pygmy puffs?" Hagrid growled at them, and one boy glanced up nervously at his coach, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. "Wood –" Hagrid addressed the boy as he righted himself, his face the colour of beetroot. "I've seen better playin' from Buckbeak when I accidentally fed him a bucket o' butterbeer. Get yeh head in the game or I'll shove yeh head somewhere else."

A tall figure with tanned skin, pearly teeth and flawless hair of whom Harry instantly recognized as Troy Bolton reassuringly patted Wood on his shoulder as he ran past. Troy then caught the ball, before jumping so high that he appeared to be soaring, flying as he tossed the ball into the net. _There's not a star in heaven that he can't reach, _Harry thought to himself, thoroughly impressed and slightly envious of Troy's blatant skill at the game. He was also utterly perplexed as to how Troy's hair remained perfectly styled and his skin didn't even show a slight sheen of sweat, in sharp contrast to the other players, of whom had hair matted to their heads or falling across their faces, which were all drenched in sweat.

Harry, Ron and Hermione, unbeknownst to the players and Hagrid, settled down on the bleachers, transfixed by the players' running in weaving patterns, and how they tossed the ball between them in a way that almost seemed choreographed. Their white trainers somehow seemed to squeak on the tarmac as they played, creating a rhythmic, drum-like beat to which they all moved to. Harry subconsciously rubbed his icy hands together, trying to generate some heat, and he wondered how the players could be sweating so much in the cold. He found himself desperately itching to get up and join them, a desire so deeply rooted within him that he'd never realised it had existed. He longed to grab the ball out of Troy's hands and slam dunk it into the net with such fervour that it ached in his bones. He found himself predicting the players' next moves or, in some cases, devising more effective tactics the players could have employed. He jumped when Hagrid plonked down on the bleachers next to Harry, causing the whole structure to sink just a little.

"Alrigh', there, Harry?" Hagrid said, spitting out his whistle and running a hand through his hair exasperatedly. "Righ' bunch o' girls aren' they?" He continued, inclining his head towards the game. "O' course, 'cept Troy, righ' natural, he is. Jus' like your Dad was, Harry," He added, elbowing Harry painfully in the ribs.

"Your dad played basketball, Harry? I didn't know that!" Ron exclaimed, while Hermione peered round curiously.

"He didn' jus' _play_, Ron. He was our playmaker, our star player!" Hagrid shook his head nostalgically, his eyes gleaming slightly with tears. "Wha' I wouldn' give teh have him on our team now. Righ' shame tha' he died, it was, the good die young, I tell yer."

"So you knew Harry's dad?" Hermione asked.

"Well o'course I did. I've coached Hoopwarts since I was ex-" Hagrid faltered suddenly, his expression falling. "Er, I mean, since I was abou' thirteen. WOOD, IF YEH FALL DOWN AGAIN YEH'LL BE OFF THE TEAM FEH GOOD." Hagrid suddenly yelled, getting to his feet. Wood had tripped over rather spectacularly, landing flat on his face, and crimson blood was spurting from his nose.

"Ah, Christ, yeh look like yeh've broken tha'." Hagrid murmured as he beckoned for Wood to come closer. "Yeh'll need the Hospital Wing. Perfect. Wonderful. TROY, GET OVER HERE, YEH CAN TAKE WOOD TO THE HOSPITAL WING." Troy bounded over, looped an amiable arm over Wood's shoulder and led him off the court.

"Well, boys, we migh' as well stop the practice there. We can't really play withou' Wood _and _Troy." Hagrid was saying to the team as the two boys ambled up towards the castle, running a hand over his face. An idea ignited itself in the pit of Harry's stomach and he started forward, tugging on the sleeve of Hagrid's letterman jacket.

"Hagrid, why don't Ron and I fill in?" he said quietly, and Hermione instantly squealed.

"Ooh, yes, what a good idea, Harry! Although you don't really know the rules of magical basketball-"

"Oh, please," Ron snorted. "It's not that difficult! It's exactly the same as Muggle basketball except you can use wands every now and then."

"Yes, but Ron, it's not that _simple,_ you can't-"

"So, what do you say, Hagrid? I mean, Coach?" Harry interjected quickly, determined to avert any argument between Ron and Hermione.

"Well, I think it's a grand idea, Harry, an' i've been desperate ter see how well yeh play! Why don' yeh and Ron head into the changin' rooms, I'm sure we've got a couple o' spare kits in there somewhere..."

Five short minutes later, Ron and Harry were back on the court, clad in basketball kits that were several sizes too big for them. Harry thought longingly of the perfectly sized kit nestled in his trunk up in his dormitory as he pulled the drawstring ties on the shorts as tight as they would go. _Oh well, _he sighed to himself. _At least i'll know after this if I actually need it._

Almost immediately, the intricate patterns the team had moved in before resumed, only this time Harry and Ron were a part of it. Their trainers once again beat out a rhythm to which they all set their pace to, almost creating the soundtrack to the game. Harry noticed Ron worrying his lip as he moved, obviously terrified that he would fall out of sync with the others, and so did Chad, the boy with the afro who was next to him.

"Hey, look, it's a lot easier if you relax a bit," He called out to Ron, who glanced up, a nervous smile on his face. "But not too much though, or else coach will have your head on his wall!" Chad laughed good-naturedly, but the smile slipped off Ron's face like butter.

"Look, just follow us. We'll show you how it's done!" Another voice said that Harry recognised to belong to a guy called Zeke from Hufflepuff, who was known throughout the school for making excellent French apple pie.

Suddenly the rhythmic beating grew louder, accompanied by the occasional squeaking of the trainers on the concrete, and Chad started to sing to Harry and Ron in a surprisingly tuneful and slightly husky voice.

"_Coach said he'll crucio  
Us if we lose  
Gotta play magically  
No time to snooze"_

Zeke grabbed the ball off Chad and started singing as he threw the ball faultlessly into the net.

"_Gotta run the give and go  
And take the ball to the hole  
And don't be afraid  
To hex those bitches, hey!"_

He pulled out his wand and fired a light tickling jinx at one of the team mates playing the opposition, a wide grin on his face. Chad joined him as they sung the next verse.

"_Just keep ya head in the game!  
Just keep ya head in the game!  
And don't be afraid  
To hex those bitches, hey!  
Just keep ya head in the game!"_

Harry managed to tackle the ball off of Zeke and pot it with ease, and a grin was forming on his face as he became aware of his clear natural skill. Now all the team joined in as the game evolved, becoming increasingly competitive.

"_You gotta  
Get'cha get'cha head in the game!" _Sung Chad.

"_We gotta  
Get our, get our, get our, get our head in the game!" _The rest of the team replied.

Chad flashed a dizzyingly bright smile at Harry and he noticed him wink at Hermione where she sat in the stand. Ron must have noticed too, as his fists curled angrily as Hermione's face flushed pink. Harry found himself marvelling at Chad's good looks, a tinge of jealousy washing over him. With his coffee coloured skin, thick dark hair and toned arms, he had a different look to Troy, and yet it was equally as attractive. It was clear that Chad was aware of this too as soon as he started singing.

"_Let's make sure that  
We all look damn fine  
'Cause when we're playin'  
All the witches'll go wild,_

_Toss your hair,  
Makes you look like a God"_

Ron grabbed the ball and sang the next line as he tossed the ball to another player.

"_Maybe this time  
Hermione will noooticeee!"_

All of the team momentarily stopped playing to stare at Ron, where he stood, frozen, his skin suddenly very pale. Hermione, mercifully, appeared to not have heard and was petting a gruesome ginger kneazle that was weaving between her feet.

"_Wait a minute  
Why did I say that" _Ron sung in a strangled sounding voice.

"_Wait a minute  
Get your head in the game!" _Replied the rest of the team as they resumed playing.

"_Wait a minute  
Get my head in the game!" _Harry began singing as he skilfully blocked an attack.

"_Wait a minute_  
_Wait a minute_  
_I gotta  
Get my, get my head in the game!"_

"_You gotta  
Get'cha, get'cha, get'cha, get'cha head in the game" _The rest of the team replied.

Suddenly the game seemed to freeze, with Harry in the centre. He was gripped by the sudden notion that what he was doing was what he was destined to do. It was a feeling he'd only ever experienced once before, and that was when he realised he was a wizard.

"_I don't know what's going on," _He sang, his voice clear and full of emotion._  
Playing this game  
Is where I belong  
I've never felt so right..."_

"Something smells fishy. Maybe haddocks or... Pikes?" Hermione said in the stands in a babyish voice to the kneazle as it wolfed down a huge fish, complete with skin. This broke Harry out of his reverie, and instantly the game resumed, becoming increasingly more intense. Harry, however, found the game to be incredibly easy, scoring goal after goal. Suddenly, the entire team broke into a dance routine, in which they tossed the balls between each other with ease and grace as they sung the final chorus.

_I gotta  
Get my, get my head in the game!  
You gotta  
Get'cha, get'cha, get'cha, get'cha head in the game!_

_WHOO!"_

They tossed the basketball up in the air, before breaking out into laughter and giving each other high fives. Harry could hear a round of applause beneath the other team mates, and he looked around to see Hagrid gazing at him with tears in his eyes while applauding vigorously, as well as Hermione, and a small group of other students that had assembled without him realising on the bleachers. In this group, Harry recognised two of the girls from the sorting: a blonde and a brunette that were each clutching a small, furry creature under their arms and were giggling manically where they sat eating brownies. They waved enthusiastically when they saw him looking, to which he gave an answering grin. Hagrid was suddenly by Harry's side, grasping his hand in his dustbin lid sized palms.

"Harry, yeh're amazin'! Yeh're even better than I thought yeh'd be! I have ter put yeh on the team! With you we'll be the very best, like no one ever was!"

Harry nodded vigorously, a huge smile on his face, to which Hagrid replied with a choked sob and a bone crushing hug. When he was finally released, he joined Ron in the changing room to change back into his robes and collect his bag. Ron seemed a little bitter when Harry tried to make conversation, even though he had been offered a place on the team too, but Harry put it down to tiredness. It had been quite a lunchtime for the both of them. However, when they met Hermione outside to walk back up to the castle, he sensed that the cause of Ron's troubles was something else entirely.

"Did you see Chad play? Wasn't he brilliant?"Hermione gushed, her eyes bright. "I do feel sorry for him, always being upstaged by Troy. Don't you think so, Ron?"

Ron grunted in reply, his ears turning red, and he looked away from the two of them towards the Black Lake.

"Oh, and Harry, you were _so_ _good!" _She continued, unfazed by the lack of response from Ron. "No wonder Hagrid put you on the team! And you too, Ron! I must say, the colour red really complimented your hair..." She added, her cheeks growing a little pinker and her eyes cast downwards.

Ron gaped at her, his entire face the colour of a tomato, before thanking her gruffly and becoming increasingly interested in the frayed cuff of his robe sleeve. Hermione smiled bashfully at the floor, and Harry hid a smirk behind his hand for the entire rest of the trip up to the castle. He made a silent vow to himself as he watched the pair of them awkwardly converse out of the corner of his eye: he would make sure they ended up an item if it was the last thing he did, because, quite frankly, they were utterly hilarious together.

A/N: Threw in a bit of Romione for all you shippers out there.

Disclaimer: I am JK Rowling and Walt Disney. LOL JKS i'm not, and therefore these characters and their worlds do not belong to me. Also the song of this chapter was "Get'cha Head in the Game" from High School Musical and I changed the lyrics.


End file.
